What Solo Travel Taught Me About Trusting Myself

There’s something quietly terrifying—and thrilling—about boarding a plane alone, passport in hand, with no one to lean on but yourself. No one to check the map, confirm the booking, or tell you everything will be okay. Just you, your luggage, and a heart full of curiosity. Solo travel isn’t just a journey through cities or landscapes; it’s a journey inward. And for me, it became the classroom where I learned one of life’s most essential lessons: how to trust myself.

The First Flight Was the Hardest

My solo travel journey began not with excitement, but with anxiety. I remember double-checking my ticket at the airport, palms sweaty, heart racing. I had booked a one-week trip to Lisbon, Portugal—a city I had never been to, in a country where I didn’t speak the language. Friends asked if I was meeting someone there. I wasn’t. Family asked if I was sure it was safe. I wasn’t entirely. But I knew I needed to do it.

I was running on empty emotionally. Between burnout at work, social pressures, and an overwhelming sense of stagnation, I had reached a point where I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I hoped solo travel would clear my head. What I didn’t expect was that it would rebuild my confidence piece by piece.

Learning to Rely on My Own Judgment

One of the first things solo travel teaches you is that you are more capable than you think. When you land in a new place without a detailed plan or a travel companion, you’re forced to make decisions—and quickly. Where to stay. What to eat. How to get around. Which neighborhood feels safe at night.

In Lisbon, I got lost on my first day. My phone died, I didn’t have mobile data, and none of the street names matched what I remembered. I panicked for a moment, heart pounding. But then, I took a deep breath, retraced my steps, and eventually made it back to my hostel. That small victory lit a spark. I had gotten myself into a sticky situation—and out of it. On my own. It was the first time in a long while I had felt proud of myself.

With each decision I made, I became a little more grounded. I learned to listen to my intuition. If a street felt off, I turned around. If a place felt right, I stayed longer. It wasn't about being fearless—it was about learning to trust that I could figure things out, even when I was afraid.

Embracing Discomfort

Traveling alone means you sit with a lot of silence—especially at first. You eat meals alone, walk alone, and sometimes spend entire days without meaningful conversation. At home, this kind of solitude might feel like loneliness. But on the road, it starts to feel like clarity.

Without the noise of constant opinions and input from others, I could finally hear my own voice. I realized how often I had silenced that voice back home—people-pleasing, second-guessing, playing it safe. Solo travel stripped away the distractions and forced me to confront my thoughts head-on.

There were uncomfortable moments. Sitting alone at a café while couples chatted nearby. Walking through a museum with no one to share my thoughts with. But with discomfort came growth. I learned to enjoy my own company. To slow down. To look inward instead of outward for validation.

Making Friends With Strangers

Ironically, being alone on the road also made me more open to connection. When you’re with others, you tend to stay in your bubble. But when you’re solo, you notice people more. You strike up conversations with fellow travelers, hostel staff, street vendors. You ask for help. You share stories.

In Porto, I met a woman from Argentina at a walking tour. We clicked instantly, and ended up spending two days exploring together. In Barcelona, I joined a cooking class and learned how to make paella with people from five different countries. These interactions reminded me that most people are kind, curious, and willing to help. You just have to reach out.

Learning to trust myself didn’t mean I had to isolate myself. It meant understanding that I could handle things on my own and choose to connect when I wanted to. That balance—between independence and openness—was empowering.

Facing Fear With Curiosity

Every solo traveler has moments of fear. What if I get sick? What if I lose my passport? What if something goes wrong?

But here's the beautiful thing: when you're out there navigating the world alone, fear starts to lose its grip. You realize that fear is often just unfamiliarity wearing a costume. The more you explore, the more familiar everything becomes. You begin to swap fear with curiosity.

I stopped asking, “What if something bad happens?” and started wondering, “What new thing could I experience today?” That mindset shift changed everything—not just in travel, but in life. I became more open to saying yes. Yes to spontaneous detours, to new foods, to unexpected adventures. And most importantly, yes to myself.

Bringing the Lessons Home

When I returned home from that first solo trip, I felt different. Not just rested, but reconnected. The self-doubt that had clouded my mind for months had cleared. I had proven to myself that I could make decisions, handle challenges, and find joy without relying on anyone else.

That confidence carried over into other areas of my life. I started trusting my gut at work. I stopped seeking approval for every little choice. I made time for solitude without feeling guilty. I set boundaries. I even booked more solo trips.

Because once you’ve seen how capable you really are, it’s hard to forget it.

Why Everyone Should Travel Solo—At Least Once

Solo travel isn’t a magic cure. It won’t solve every problem or make your life instantly better. But it will show you a version of yourself that you might have forgotten existed—strong, resourceful, curious, and whole.

It’s easy to lose trust in ourselves when life feels heavy. We internalize criticism, avoid risk, and wait for someone else to tell us what to do. But out on the road, with no one to consult but your own intuition, you remember something powerful: You already have the answers.

You just need the quiet to hear them—and the courage to act on them.

Final Thoughts

Trusting yourself isn’t a one-time achievement. It’s a practice, a relationship, a muscle. Like any relationship, it requires patience, attention, and kindness. Solo travel was how I began that relationship. Every misstep, every solo dinner, every quiet morning on a strange street taught me to check in with myself first—not last.

If you’re feeling lost, stuck, or unsure of who you are—pack a bag. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Listen to the sound of your own footsteps. Sit with your thoughts. Ask yourself what you want, not what’s expected.

And trust that you already know the way.